


Aggrievement Unlocked

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dreams, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Moving On, Requited Unrequited Love, Top Kim Jongin | Kai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: After losing his best friend Jongin, Baekhyun falls in a deep sleep from grief and enters another world where he and Jongin are married.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 13
Kudos: 54
Collections: Ultimate Top Kim Jongin Fic Fest 2019





	Aggrievement Unlocked

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #DJK24**  
>  **Trigger Warnings:** off-screen character death  
>  **The author's note:** Jongin's already dead in this fic and prompt. It was not my decision. His spirit is alive and well, though.👍

It’s been quiet for the past ten minutes.

Unusual for them both.

The fans in his computer kick up and whir loudly for a moment before quieting as it goes to sleep. Baekhyun hasn’t played anything in a while, but he never turns his computer off. He’s not sure he could stand the silence but doesn’t feel like music. The television had been on a twenty-four hour news channel, but Chanyeol turned it off when he came in.

And then they sat. Chanyeol, with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. Baekhyun, with his legs drawn up and leaning against the arm of the sofa.

“You look awful.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you been sleeping?” Baekhyun shrugs and shakes his head. He’s tried, because he is _tired_ , but it’s just not a sleepy tired.

It’s a soulful tired. No amount of sleep can help.

“Jongdae said you stood him up at the movies.”

A cat squeezes through a partly opened door onto the balcony across from Baekhyun’s apartment. He watches it gauge distance, wiggle a couple times, and leap onto the railing to lie precariously on the corner with a leg hanging down. 

“I didn’t feel like going. I know I should have called.” His phone battery died a few days ago. The charger is unplugged. Too much effort.

Chanyeol sits back and stares. Baekhyun can feel it without looking; he sees his friend’s reflection in the window. “I know you liked him a lot, Baekhyun, but...he is _gone_. And you’re not. You can’t let this put your whole life on hold.”

“What kind of life is it without Jongin? I’m serious, Chanyeol—There’s absolutely no chance at all for us, now, because I was such a goddamn coward. It’s too late. We’re over, and we didn’t even have a chance to be together. 

“There’s just...no point…” No point in living in a world that he can’t hear Jongin’s stupid laugh or see his wide smile or feel his warm hugs. He sighs, sniffles, and rubs his nose on his sleeve. It’s one of Jongin’s shirts, but it doesn’t smell like him. It smells like Baekhyun’s detergent, because Jongin was always leaving his stuff at Baekhyun’s place.

“I’m sorry, Baek.” Everyone’s sorry. “I wish I could help,” everyone wants to help, “but I don’t know how.”

“It’s okay. Nothing anyone could do would help, anyway.” Looking at the clock on the DVD player, he sighs again. “You’re going to be late.”

Chanyeol wrings his hands. “I don’t want you to be by yourself…”

“I’m not going to do anything.” He’s too scared of dying to kill himself. “I’m not _that_ melodramatic.” He’s thought about it. From gunshots to sleeping pills and burning charcoal briquettes indoors, there are actual articles and blogs about the efficiency and painlessness of the most popular methods of suicide.

But he’s ultimately too scared to even try anything.

And he feels guilty about feeling sad about that.

Baekhyun rocks forward, following the momentum to stand upright, and walks Chanyeol to the door. They’ve known each other for too long to be waiting at doors and knocking, instead coming and going from one another’s apartments without knocking, but there’s a finality to it that emphasizes his want to be alone.

Chanyeol ties his sneakers and checks his pockets for his phone and keys. He reaches for the door, looks at Baekhyun, and pulls him in for a tight hug. He squeezes Baekhyun, trying to pour in all his feelings.

And Baekhyun feels them. He squeezes his best friend right back, finally feeling a bit of warmth for the first time in days.

“I’ll message you later, okay?”

“Sure.”

The door closes with a click.

Chanyeol’s footfalls get muffled and distant.

Static settles in Baekhyun’s apartment.

Mongryong is living with his parents. It wasn’t fair to him to watch Baekhyun mope and not bathe or leave the building. He misses the Corgi’s company, though; he’s a receptive dog and a good friend.

He, at least, doesn’t tell him how much of a mess he looks and worries he’s going to cut his wrists instead of shave his scruffy beard.

He just wants to sleep. Maybe he can sleep forever, living in a world of dreams.

Hopefully, they’re good dreams. Dreams he can wrap himself in and feel something again, if only for a little while.

He's confused when he's woken by kisses and blinded with Jongin's smile.

Baekhyun closes his eyes again, sinking into the pillow with the kiss. “Am I dreaming?”

“If you are, I’m flattered. Your husband _should_ be your dream man.” Jongin kisses him again, and Baekhyun takes a chance, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s neck. The silver chain with the tiny padlock he wears gently bumps against Baekhyun’s jaw. He feels his pillow depress on either side of his head; Jongin’s leaning over him on his elbows. “I would love,” he mumbles out the side of his mouth, “nothing more than to keep you in bed all day. Nothing but kissing and other things, _but_ ,” he pulls back just enough to look at Baekhyun. “You’ve gotta eat. It’s been a while, and you need energy, or you won’t be able to keep kissing me later.”

As an athlete, Jongin’s quite physically strong, but Baekhyun has always been brawnier than he looks. Jongin cheats and slips out from Baekhyun’s hold rather than trying to break it. He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I guess so.” He feels awake, for once.

“You slept _deeply_. I had to roll you over because you were snoring so loud.”

“I do not snore!” He might make restless noises when trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep, but after that he’s silent; he’s sure of it. Jongin’s just looking to get hit.

“Yes, you do! I thought I was going to go deaf.” Jongin shrieks when struck with a pillow and falls backwards when Baekhyun follows, trying to grab the pillow to smother him with. He’s a bit bigger than Baekhyun but pretty evenly matched in strength, so he has to resort to dirty tricks to free himself and pinches Baekhyun’s butt. His poor husband yelps, and Jongin simultaneously flings the pillow from Baekhyun’s loosened grasp and pulls him down for more kisses.

Baekhyun melts. He wants this to last forever.

A lifetime passes in an instant.

They celebrate five, ten, twenty, thirty-five years together. Baekhyun holds an infant, and someone comments on how much his grandson looks like him. Photos on the wall of an unfamiliar but warm apartment show a much younger Jongin with Baekhyun, a young woman, and two babies smiling gummily.

Baekhyun shaves every morning until arthritis makes his joints too stiff and sore to move; some days are better than others. Jongin doesn’t mind taking over, cupping Baekhyun’s face in weathered hands to gently turn his head either way, lathering shaving cream, shaving evenly, applying the same spicy aftershave with the keyhole logo on the bottle he’s worn his whole life.

Their love life isn’t as active as they age, but they spend every night together, fulfilling the promise they made and sealed with gold-banded vows.

The walls of their apartment fill with framed photographs that overflow onto shelves and window sills, boasting fun birthday parties, vacations, Jongin sweaty but smiling at a job site, a Caribbean cruise, an anniversary in Hawaii, and their children, grandchildren, and their newborn great granddaughter. Technology changes, as it always has, but Baekhyun likes the printed photos. His phone is filled with pictures his kids and grandkids send; he finds texting more difficult and prefers video calls.

Most mornings, Jongin wakes Baekhyun with a kiss or two...or three. He always had to get up much earlier for work at whatever construction site, and Baekhyun insisted on seeing him off. It’s a habit they retain in retirement.

It’s a cold morning. Baekhyun wants to stay in bed, where it’s warm. He rolls over into the depression left from Jongin. “Wake up, hyung.”

Baekhyun’s mumble explodes into an unattractive grunt as he’s jumped on. “Granddad, wake up!” His great granddaughter is removed before she can jump on him again. “We’re gonna go to the zoo!”

“You promised her, hyung,” Jongin says, and that does sound right. They spoiled all their grandkids; it’s the great grandkids turn, and she’s the only one, so far.

Throwing the blankets off, he finds his slippers blindly and tucks his feet into their cozy warmth. He doesn’t retain body heat like he used to.

Jongin holds the little girl’s hand and offers his free hand to Baekhyun. “I’ll make breakfast,” he says, and helps Baekhyun to his feet.

In his 80s, Baekhyun’s hands are too thick and gnarled to dance across piano keys anymore. Jongin sits beside him on the bench and plays the songs Baekhyun taught him, and they sing together. Any embarrassment he used to feel about his changing voice and pitchiness has long since gone. Jongin still kisses him and tells him it’s lovely, playing with one hand to hold Baekhyun’s with the other.

The years between them melt away, leaving two young men hopeful and in love.

Jongin tugs his hand a little and guides him through a door.

The smile falls from Baekhyun’s face when he’s lead into white.

Just… _white_.

It could be a room. There’s no breeze to suggest outside, but everything is white. White beneath his feet, over his head, to either side and forward and back. All a solid white without objects to create shadow or a visible light source to cast shadow.

“Where is this?”

Even Jongin is wearing white. Snowy blazer and slacks, alabaster turtleneck, bleached shoes and peeks of tan ankles—he’s not wearing socks. Typical.

“‘Limbo?’ ‘The Void?” Jongin shrugs and looks around. “It’s an in-between place. Neither here nor there.”

“Why are we here?”

“I wanted to apologise.” Jongin pushes his hands into the pockets of his pants and stares at the blank space between his feet. It’s a familiar posture seen every time he was embarrassed or nervous, ever since he made the effort to stop biting his nails. “I should have left a long while ago...but I didn’t want to leave you like this. You were so sad and regretful; I thought, if I could give you some happy memory...you’d be okay.

“But doing that, I messed up.” He runs his hands through his hair, closing his fingers and pulling the strands tight before letting go. Baekhyun wants so badly to fix the mess, but when he lifts his hand, space seems to pinch and stretch away from him. “I wanted it so bad I couldn’t let you go, and I couldn’t leave, either, because the door was locked.”

“What door?” As Baekhyun asks, he notices the door beside Jongin and vaguely wonders how he didn’t see it before. A comically large key sits in the lock at its center. “Where does that go?”

“I don’t really know,” Jongin admits softly, observing the door without curiosity. “I hope someplace nice, although I know it’ll be nothing like home.”

“Do you have to go?” It’s not exactly what Baekhyun wants to say, but he knows there’s nothing that could change what needs to happen. If words were all that’s needed, they wouldn’t have to live in dreams.

Jongin opens his arms, and Baekhyun doesn’t need to move to feel the warm embrace. He keeps his face tucked beside Jongin’s shoulder until he feels something pulling at the hem of his shirt.

It really is a dream. Behind him, a teddy bear stands on its own, pulling at him with a fluffy paw.

“I love you, Byun Baekhyun.” Jongin kisses his crown.

Baekhyun can’t ask him to wait; they had a full life together. This dream is just as real as anything at home, and he readily takes the bear’s paw.

Expecting to walk somewhere, Baekhyun’s a little surprised the bear just stands there. They watch Jongin turn the key, which opens the door inwards. Light shines from inside, and there’s a warm breeze. Jongin looks over his shoulder to wave to Baekhyun, backlit beautifully.

He’s grateful to the little bear, for waiting with him.

The door closes.

Jongin is gone.

Baekhyun wakes up.

Chanyeol and Jongdae are seated on either side of him, watching like stupefied guardian lions. Jongdae immediately starts crying, and Chanyeol’s wiping his own face with his sleeve. “Welcome back to the world of the living,” he says. 

They still like stone, mortified and apologetic.

“Baek,” Jongdae leans in, “he didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright.” Baekhyun sits up. His back is sore, from lying in one position too long. He feels sleepy but not tired. “It’s really fine. 

“I’ll be okay, now.”


End file.
